Scars
by HedgieX
Summary: Someone close to Gill is found brutally murdered. Her team support her despite her offhand behaviour, but it soon becomes apparent that the killer hasn't finished, and is desperate to cut even deeper. Can Gill push aside her grief in order to avenge the tragedy and get her life back on track, or will this case be her last? Set post series two, basically some random drabble.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone ;') Hope you all enjoy this, I'm not entirely sure where it's going at the moment, and it's not exactly quality fanfic, but what can I say? I fancied writing something – I'm essentially aiming for some fluffy chapters mixed in with lots of action and angst, mainly centred around Gill. Obviously.**

**If you don't already know, I'm writing to Amelia and telling her all about our fandom on Fanfiction/Twitter and how much we all love her. We're all writing our names and I'm putting them together with pictures and messages; if anyone's interested, just tell me!**

Chapter 1:

"Okay," Gill said – she spoke unusually softly, but she made up for this with the evident moodiness in her tone – as she entered the briefing room, "Can everyone quieten down?"

She was a small woman, both in height and build, but she commanded respect. The officers in the room fell silent, feeling a little like school children; they were unsure of what they'd done wrong, but sure she was about to enlighten them to their mistakes.

"Morning, Ma'am."

"Good morning, DC Lumb. Nice you could make it into work today."

"Nice for who exactly, Ma'am?"

"Wow, you're here too," she sat down, her eyes piercing Rachel's, daring her to continue laughing, "This really is a turn up for the books. You might want to get the camera out, DC Broadhurst, and record this momentous event."

Lee looked concerned, "Are you- are you okay?"

She arched an eyebrow, "I'll be better once you lot have stopped fannying around and listened to me."

Nobody else dared to speak. Gill stood up again, began pacing backwards and forwards across the already thinning carpet.

"What the fu..." Kevin began to whisper across the table.

She spun around, her eyes burning, her voice suddenly filling the room, "How dare you use that kind of language? Especially in front of me, your senior officer? You've had countless warnings, DC Lumb, and every time I've picked you back up from whatever pit you've fallen into, and I've wiped shit from your arse and given you another chance, but do you know what? I'm not willing to do that any more."

Mitch stood up, "Gill, he didn't..."

"You never learn from your mistakes, do you? You're so busy slagging everyone else off, being insensitive at the worst possible times, throwing not just your own career, but everyone else's, into jeopardy."

She paused, as though she expected Kevin to defend himself, but he sat silently gazing up at her. Dug his nails deep into his cheeks, like he just needed something to do with his hands, and left raw indentations.

"You're lazy, you're childish. You just..." she sat down again, slammed a fist down on the table, "Do you know what, Kevin? I don't want you on my team any more. I don't want someone like you working for me, someone who's incompetent, someone I cannot – and probably never will – trust. It's a waste of money, and what's more, you're a waste of my time and space and effort."

"Ma'am, I..."

"Get out, Kevin."

"But..."

"Get out, or I will drag you out."

He jumped up, a line of cuts running across his face from his nails. Rachel tensed herself as he passed the bin, wondering if he was going to kick off and throw things around the office, but he simply walked from the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"Shit," Gill murmured, "Shit."

She slipped her glasses from her face and dropped them onto the desk, then stood too. As she passed under the harsh light beamed on her from the ceiling, following Kevin from the room, her officers clearly saw the glistening tears that welled in her eyes.

There was a long, long pause as the door closed again. Rachel reached out and folded her boss's glasses; Mitch picked up his pen and drew a cartoon question mark. Nobody really knew what to say, or how to say it. It was always Kevin who broke awkward silences, and now... God, now he wasn't here.

Lee met Pete's gaze, and saw that his feelings were mirrored. Yeah, Kevin was an arse sometimes, but in Rachel's words, he made the rest of them look good. He had a heart of gold, underneath all the crap. Every police office needed an idiot; without someone to make them smile, they couldn't do the job they did.

Rachel picked up the office phone, dialled a number. Her colleagues watched her hands shaking as she listened to the ringing tone.

"Good afternoon, this is DS Scott from MIT," Janet's calm, efficient voice echoed down the line, "How can I help you?"

"Jan."

"Is that you, Rachel? Are you okay?"

She nodded, then realised how stupid it was to nod at a phone. "Yeah. No. Um, I'm sorry, I know you needed this afternoon off to go Christmas shopping, but we... we've got a problem."

Janet breathed out slowly, and just the sound comforted Rachel. After Andy's departure, Janet had been promoted, and at first Rachel had been worried it would be a barrier between them. Perhaps, though she was ashamed to admit it, she'd been jealous – if she hadn't missed that exam, it could've been her as the sergeant.

"What's happened?"

"It's Gill, she... she's upset. It's difficult to..." she glanced at Lee, who now had his head in his hands, "Can I explain when you get here?"

But nothing had changed between them. If anything, they'd become closer with time. Rachel, before she'd joined MIT, hadn't ever really known what it was like to have someone to wholly rely on. Someone she knew cared about what she was going through, someone she knew she could always call if she needed to cry, or to laugh.

Before she'd met Janet, people had always let her down – her mother, her brother, Nick – and she'd hardened her heart and stopped loving anyone, for a while, because it hurt too much. But Janet had slowly helped heal the pain, and Rachel truly adored her, although she never really told her that.

"Of course. I'll be there if about ten minutes, okay?"

"Yeah."

She should tell her more often, just emphasize how wonderful she was, Rachel thought now. The day Janet had been stabbed had been the longest of her life. Waiting in the car park, wondering if her best friend was still clinging to life or whether the doctors were announcing her death.

"It'll be alright, Rach," Janet said softly.

"Yeah. See you soon."

XxXxX

**Guess you'll all just have to wait a little bit longer to find out who's been murdered, then. Please review!xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews for the first chapter :')**

**The Amelia letter got posted yesterday, after I'd taught my mum and dad about fan mail – I think they're nearly as excited as I am. We reckon she's going to look at the letter and go, 'we're gonna need a bloody big psychiatric ward to fit all of these psychos on'. But hopefully she'll like it.**

**This is a long chapter. Not entirely sure why, it just turned out that way. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2:

Gill hammered on the door of the male toilets, then pushed it open a crack and peered inside, "Kevin?"

"You've got some nerve, coming in here."

She didn't say anything, because she supposed he was right. Stepping inside, she saw that he was huddled up against the sinks, his head buried between his knees. She edged towards him, leaning against the hand dryer.

"What do you want?"

"We need to talk, Kevin."

His voice was choked with tears. "I think you've already said everything there is to be said. I'm... I'm lazy, and I'm childish. Everyone hates me – I'm ruining all your careers, getting in the way."

"Kevin..."

"You don't want me on MIT. I get it, so why don't you just leave me alone? I'll just get my stuff from the staff room, then I'll go. You don't need to drag me out – I won't cause any trouble. I know when I'm not needed any more."

Gill reached out and touched his arm. He was shaking, but so was she. He leant away from her, as though her fingers hurt him.

"Kevin, I'm sorry."

"_You're_ sorry?"

"Yes. I... I'm sorry."

He lifted his head, "What's wrong, Ma'am?"

"You don't need to call me Ma'am any more. Well, you do, but..." she took a paper towel from the holder and wiped her eyes. The rough paper scratched her skin, and suddenly she was crying harder, leaning over the sink as she tried to hold back the sobs that engulfed her. "God, this isn't... this isn't very p... professional, is it? I'm sorry."

"What happened? Hey, don't cry," he jumped down and laid a hand on her shoulder, trying to insert a joke, "I didn't know you were this bothered about sacking me, Ma'am. I thought it would be the highlight of your career."

"Oh, Kevin... I'm sorry."

"You can stop saying sorry now, Ma'am. DCI Dodson was always trying to get rid of me – she'll be over the moon you finally managed it. I'll just go and be a traffic cop with Sean; it's fine."

"No, Kevin. No, I didn't mean what I said. We need you in MIT; you're... you're the shining light. You make everything seem okay. You're..."

He smirked, "Feel free to continue flattering me."

"Well, let's face it, Kevin, because I've still got to be truthful – you're a knob. You're an_ absolute_ knob," she turned on the tap and splashed cold water over her face, so that it mingled in with the tears, "But we really need you. And I would be really grateful if we could just... just forget the last few minutes."

"Ma'am, are you- I mean, do you mean- what..."

"You're not sacked, Kevin."

"Oh." A fresh smile broke out over his face, and he reached into his pocket and took out a tissue, pressing it into her hand. "That's good. Cheers, Ma'am; you've made my day good again. But you still haven't told me why you're crying."

"I know."

"Well, are you... are you going to?"

She wiped her eyes, "Mm. Come on, before I get arrested for being in the wrong bloody toilets. We've got work to be doing."

XxXxX

Janet dropped her handbag onto the desk and slipped off her coat, then sank down into her chair, scanning the room.

Everyone was silent: Pete and Lee were drinking large mugs of coffee, Mitch was playing with a pen, and Rachel was still clutching Gill's glasses.

"Who's died?" Janet asked. Nobody laughed. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on, then, or what? Seriously, where's Kevin when you need him?"

Pete wrinkled his nose, "He's been sacked."

"What? Is this all a joke?"

"No. We wish it was, Sarge."

"Rachel?" Janet opened her handbag and took out her own glasses, then turned to her best friend expectantly, her forehead lined with worry, "Can you explain?"

"Um, Gill came in. She was being proper moody, like, worse than she usually is, and then she just snapped at Kevin. She started going on about how she didn't trust him, she said he was lazy and childish, and she didn't want him on MIT."

"Bloody hell."

"Here, Sarge," Lee passed her a drink.

"Thanks. I think I need it. So what, Kevin left?"

Mitch nodded, "Yeah, he just walked out. Then she went _shit _and followed him. And I'm pretty certain she was crying."

"None of you followed her?"

"Kev didn't even do anything, really. We don't all want to be sacked, you know?"

"Shit," Janet said.

"You sound like her now."

"Shit. Where did she go?"

"I don't know. Kevin's the one with the bloody eyes in the back of his head or something; we're just humble police officers. Like Godzilla's bloody slaves," Rachel snapped, "Hopefully far away from here. Hopefully she'll never come back."

"Thank you, Rachel," Gill said stiffly from the doorway.

Rachel had never wanted Kevin to be sitting across the table from her more, laughing because the boss was telling her off. She wanted someone to mouth stuff at, to go for a drink with at the end of a long day. Yeah, she hated Kevin, but that was natural – it was Kevin. She still loved him; she still wanted him here.

"We were just..."

"Right," Gill shook her head, stepped up to the board at the front of the room, picked up a pen. Her hand shook a little. "Good morning, Janet. Thank you for coming in – we're probably going to need you."

"Are you okay, Gill?" Janet asked softly.

She didn't meet her sergeant's gaze, because she knew if she did she'd sink down onto the floor and weep, and possibly never stop. She just nodded.

Mitch clicked his pen rapidly, "Where's Kevin?"

"A body was found dumped outside the Royal Oldham in the early hours of this morning, in the mud, in the bushes. A paramedic found it when he went to have a sneaky fag; could've stayed there for hours otherwise. That was probably the aim," Gill tapped her own pen against the board, but didn't write anything.

"The body was badly beaten; it seems as though the attack was unplanned, at first, because it's so aggressive, stab wounds all over the body, pools of blood. But then it's bound so neatly in rope, tied up in bin-bags, put somewhere no-one would go. Some aspects seem planned."

"So, are some of us getting down to the scene?" Pete asked.

"There are plenty of officers down there."

"What are we..." Rachel suddenly realised she was still clutching Gill's glasses, and pushed them away, as though disgusted at herself, "What are we doing, then?"

"We... there is a slight complication to this murder."

"_Slight_? Already seems pretty complicated."

"Yeah, well. Slight as in, he – the victim – is one of us."

There was a shocked silence. Rachel took the glasses back and began fiddling with them again, opening the legs and closing them. Gill watched her. Janet ran her hands through her hair subconsciously, whilst Pete and Mitch and Lee watched her.

They all knew something. Last year, when Janet had been stabbed, it could've been them arranging a case around an officer they knew; trying to convict Jeff Hastings, whilst trying to choose hymns for Janet's funeral. They all knew how difficult that would've been, how tough murder cases were when they were _one of us_. Everyone was so edgy, trying to be sensitive, shocked that it could have been someone they knew.

They were beginning to understand why Gill was upset. If she had to lead this investigation, all eyes in MIT were on her, and all eyes from the outside world too; complaints from the public, the press trying to mess things up. It was going to be an incredibly tough few weeks.

"Here, Ma'am," Kevin stepped into the room, carrying a trayful of muffins.

She gave him a weak smile, reached out and grabbed a chocolate one, "Thanks."

Rachel grinned, half bemused and half amazed, as he sat down opposite her and held out the tray. She mouthed across the table at him: _What the fuck? _Kevin raised his eyebrows: _I'll tell you later. Take a bloody cake._

Gill took a small bite of her muffin, then turned back to the board. In capital letters in the centre of the board, she wrote:

CHRIS LATHAM. MURDER ENQUIRY.

XxXxX

**And if this was a film, this would definitely be your dun-dun-durrr moment.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wrote another chapter, finally ^_^**

**Sorry there isn't a lot of action, but I kind of wanted to say goodbye to Chris before I got onto the investigation, and anyway we all know that Scott&Bailey is about the personal lives as well as what goes on at the police station, so... This is just me justifying a crap chapter, in case you were wondering.**

"We should go and stand with her."

"It's raining."

"Rachel," Janet said, in the condescending manner only she could conjure up in a split second, "Grow up."

Rachel said nothing. Like a stroppy teenager, she flipped her coat hood up over her forehead and tucked her hair into it, then slipped from the car.

The two women made their way silently across to where Gill stood in the graveyard. She was leaning against the fence, as though she was frightened her feet couldn't take her weight; bluebells were winding their way up over her feet, the only sign of colour, the only sign of hope.

"Boss," Rachel touched her shoulder, "You okay?"

"Not really."

Janet hovered behind, running her hands through her already-damp hair, "I'm sorry, Gill."

"Nothing to be sorry for, really, Janet, is there? Unless it's a confession to his murder, or something, I'm not sure there's really anything anyone can apologise for."

"But..."

"He didn't have anyone who cared, you know? Well, I'm sure he did at one point, but his mum and dad are dead, and when I rang his uncle in Canada he seemed about as interested as if I'd been ringing up to ask if he wanted a conservatory."

"He had you, Gill."

"Did he?"

Rachel watched Mitch, Lee and Pete jump out of a car at the far end of the street and race towards the church entrance, splashing through the puddles like children. Kevin walked slower behind them, straightening his tie nervously.

"You okay, Ma'am?"

"Yes, Kevin. Thank you."

"You... do you want me to wait with you, or something, or..."

"No, you're okay," she turned around and faced him, and her eyes glittered. In the dusky light, none of her colleagues could quite tell if it was rain or tears on her face, but she managed a smile. "Could you do something for me though?"

"Yeah?"

"There's some candles inside; they're under one of the stained glass windows. You just light them, say a prayer – you know? Would you... I'm not sure I could..."

"Of course, Ma'am."

Janet reached out and touched Gill's hand as Kevin wandered away. She was cold. Janet remembered the first time she'd found a dead child, his little feet curled up and covered in blood, his eyes seeing everything but taking in nothing. His skin had felt like Gill's, like trying to hold an icicle; it slipped through your fingers, made shivers run up your spine.

"Is Julie coming?"

"Yeah. She was friends with him."

Rachel waved a hand in the direction of the gate; officers were trickling through in various shapes and sizes, huddled under umbrellas. Some were carrying police hats, ready to place them on the coffin as a sign of respect. "It looks like he was friends with a lot of people. Lots of people cared about him."

"Yeah."

"Maybe we should go in now, Gill? It's freezing out here – you're freezing. Come on, you know Chris wouldn't want you getting all wound up about this, would he?"

Gill's eyes met Janet's for a moment. She didn't look as though she was angry at her friend for interfering, or trying to tell her what Chris would've said when she couldn't possibly know. It wasn't really pain that lingered in her features either, turned down the corners of her mouth. Just confusion, and weariness, and something like regret.

"You can go in if you want. I just want to be outside."

"It's okay. We'll stay."

"No, Janet," she mumbled, "Please go. I'll come in soon. I just need a few minutes on my own; I need to think."

Janet looked reluctant, but Rachel took her arm and led her off inside the church. Gill could hear muffled conversations, the vicar welcoming them to the church, asking if they'd known Chris well. Janet's words were loud and clear: _he was a lovely man._

Lovely? Was he? Gill hadn't really known him. She supposed she'd needed someone to be there for her, someone to make her coffee when she walked in after a long day, someone to laugh and joke with. Her toyboy; the guy her mother had asked to date her, according to Julie. Maybe she'd just wanted to get back at Dave for the pain he'd caused. How selfish did that make her sound, when her boyfriend was dead?

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

She took her phone from her pocket, fumbled with the keypad, found her contacts. Hovered over Chris's number for a moment, and pressed delete. The screen went black, and she tucked it back into her pocket out of the rain.

Then she leant over the fence and threw up the contents of her stomach into the bluebells. And it didn't really feel like she was losing anything of herself, really, because there was nothing left inside.

XxXxX

Inside the church, Gill stood at the lectern, clasping a shredded piece of paper between her thumbs as rain water dribbled down her face. She glanced around at the congregation, and she saw that Rachel was right: there were a lot of people here, saying goodbye.

"Now Gill is going to read a poem," the vicar said.

She liked that: _Gill._ At work, everyone said DCI Murray or Ma'am, and sometimes it was nice to remember that you were still a real person, still had a real name. Weren't a complete robot.

She recognised many of them from work – in fact, there wasn't anyone here who wasn't a cop. Sometimes, people's lives outside of work were small, and sometimes that wasn't a bad thing.

Everyone here was used to horrible things, though, the cruelty of life; everyone here had to pick up the pieces and try to put lives back together. Often, police found that they became less bothered over time by murder, not because you could ever grow immune to evil, just because they had to harden their hearts, or they'd not be able to continue with their lives.

And then something like this came along, and all of those barriers the officers had built up crumbled, and that was why these big hard men with their shaven heads and crooked teeth were now sniffing into their service sheets as their boss began to read.

"If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven, and bring you back again."

XxXxX

**I wasn't originally intending to use this poem – it's _If tears could build a stairway_, by the way – in this story, but it's beautiful and although Gill hadn't known Chris very long, I think it sort of suits their relationship, because I think Gill does have a lot of memories underneath everything.**

**Anyway, I suppose this chapter is for _words-are-my-weakness_; because she suggested the poem, and because of other things too. *hugs* By the way, everyone go and read her stories! ;')**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"He doesn't have any family," Gill snapped, "Why are we wasting time trying to find them, when I've told you they don't exist?"

"Ma'am, I did some... well, basically, you were right about his father – he died last year, after a long battle with cancer, but his mother's still alive."

Andy nodded, supporting Rachel's somewhat apprehensive speech, "She lives in Scotland, as does his sister Lucy."

"Lucy?" the DCI echoed.

"Yeah. She's twenty five; quite a lot younger than him. When I spoke to her, she said she didn't see her brother that often because he was busy with work, but she's really upset about his death – it seems they were a close-knit family."

"She said her parents were often busy when they were children," Rachel took over again, "And Chris used to look after her when they got home from school; he'd make the tea, do the washing up and all that. She... I think she adored him."

Andy and Rachel exchanged glances. Everyone in the room hated doing this; they hated intruding on Gill's privacy. Her relationship with Chris had been something she'd laughed about in front of them, but really they knew she was more sensitive about these kinds of things than she let on – she liked to be left alone. It was difficult for her to trust anyone after Dave.

And now her world had been blown apart. Not only had her boyfriend – that word sounded quite casual, but they'd been together almost a year when he'd died, and it was becoming more and more serious by the week – died, but he'd been brutally murdered, and she had to face up to that.

"You sure you're alright, Gill?" Janet asked for the umpteenth time that morning, "You know the chief con said you don't need to be here, if you don't want to be. He said someone else could head this case – in fact, he sort of advised it."

Gill just shook her head, like she wanted them all to shut up. Her lips were still mouthing the name: _Lucy._

"Okay, well," Andy stood up, indicated the whiteboard behind him. There was a photograph of Chris in the centre, his head tilted slightly to the side, a grin plastered across his face. "Both the mother – her name's Jennifer – and Lucy are coming down to help us with our enquiries. They were contacted when he died, apparently, but neither of them came down to the funeral, for reasons which are yet unknown; they're going to sort out a memorial service when they're here. Go on then, Kevin?"

"Umm," Kevin licked a smudge of chocolate from his lips, trying to hide the remainder of a donut under his pile of papers as everyone in the room looked at him, "Yeah?"

"What have we got on friends? Colleagues?"

"Oh, yeah. Umm, he seems to have been quite... quite popular at work; he went out with them drinking at the weekends, all that stuff, his phone records show lots of texting between him and some other officers. But outside of work, really, he doesn't seem to have had many important friends. He rang his mother and his sister a couple of times over the past month, but that's about it."

"He told me his parents had died in a car crash."

"Gill..." Janet murmured soothingly.

"That's what he said. He told me this stuff about his grandma bringing him up or something; he said he never had any siblings. He said... God, he said he never really wished he had a brother or sister, he said he was happy..."

"Here, Ma'am," Mitch thrust a coffee at her.

"Look, I'm sure there was a reason for him saying those things. Maybe he was embarrassed?" Andy suggested.

"Of what? Me?"

"Ma'am, Lucy said Jennifer was ill – she's... well, she's got the beginnings of dementia. Maybe he didn't want to confuse her; maybe he felt uncomfortable about it," Rachel said quietly, "And if he had to lie about his mother, he would have to lie about his sister too, because otherwise she'd tell you the truth."

"Oh, it's all Lucy this and Jennifer that now, is it? First name terms?" Gill pushed away the coffee, "Christ, I thought he trusted me. I... I trusted him. I could've checked; I could've looked at records, anything like that, but no, I trusted him, I trusted what he told me. I don't ever learn, do I?"

"Ma'am..." Kevin sighed.

"What, Kevin? Actually, I bet there were phone calls to a girl on his phone as well, weren't there? Come on, tell me who he's been shagging. I can cope – I'm used to it, after everything with Dave. I might go round and punch her pretty little face in, but I'll cope."

"No, Ma'am. There was nobody except you."

Gill looked around the table at all of the faces she trusted, the officers she'd brought up as her own sort of adopted family over the past few years. They'd been here through the ups and downs, and she'd been there through theirs in return. Why was she taking her anger out on the people who were trying to help?

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Janet shook her head, "It's alright, Gill. We all understand."

"You're proper brave, Boss," Kevin reached out and offered her a biscuit, by way of showing his love.

She gave a weak smile.

"His... Chris's last texts before his death..." Andy began, anxious to continue with the meeting, but aware that Gill looked as though she was about to cry, or throw up, or run from the room, "There were a couple to a Lucas Somers, who's a DC in syndicate three."

"That's Julie's," Gill said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "She's coming in later too, and so is DC Somers. They were basically just arranging a meeting for the evening; they were going to a concert, and the plan was to meet at the pub beforehand for a pint. Obviously Chris never got there."

"There were a couple of missed calls from DC Somers throughout the evening," Lee continued, "And a voicemail – along the lines of 'where are you?', but with more adjectives. Based on that, I'd imagine that we can eliminate Lucas from the enquiry."

"Then there's some texts to Gill, obviously," Kevin said, his eyebrows twitching sheepishly as Gill flushed. He met her gaze._Yep, I've read them. Sorry. _"But the last phone call is the most interesting. We've managed to get the call, but it's to an unknown number, someone he hasn't previously contacted; we've traced it, but there's no registration details for it. It's a bit fuzzy, like it was in an area with not much signal, but..."

Andy tapped the interactive whiteboard behind him and a new image flashed up, "This is a transcript of what we think it says. Listen for the female's voice."

**UNKNOWN MALE 1:** HELLO?

**CHRIS LATHAM:** WHATEVER YOU THINK, IT'S NOT RIGHT.

**UM1:** OH, LATHAM, IF ONLY YOU KNEW.

**CL:** YOU CAN'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS – IT'S NOT FAIR ON EITHER OF US. IT'S NOT HER FAULT; IF YOU WANT TO PUNISH ANYONE, BLAME ME, NOT HER.

**UM1:** WHY CAN'T I BLAME YOU BOTH?

**CL:** _At this point, CL becomes emotional. _PLEASE. IT'S REALLY NOT... LOOK, I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY. YOU CAN'T... SHIT.

**UM1: **IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT, MATE.

**UNKNOWN FEMALE 1: **KEVVY? _[possibly Kenny]_

**UM1:** WHAT DID I TELL YOU?

**CL:** YOU...

_Line goes dead._

"We're not sure if she says 'Kevvy' or 'Kenny'. Either way, we can't find anyone connected to Chris with either of those names, and we can't get any results back on voice recognition, so..."

"So we're at a dead end," Gill finished Andy's sentence.

"No, Ma'am. Of course we're not; we already have a few ideas, but..." he sighed, "Let's come back after lunch, and see what we come up with then. See you all at one thirty."

"You coming down with us, Gill?" Janet asked, as she and Rachel grabbed their coats. You always had to rush down to the canteen early, or you missed out on the nice warm paninis, and got left with the crappy burnt ones with stringy cheese.

"No, I think I'll just stay up here."

"Alright. See you in a bit."

XxXxX


	5. Chapter 5

**I know it's been a very long time since I've updated *looks ashamed* In my (weak) defence, I've been working on a private project! I actually had to check back over the previous chapters to refresh my memory, so I'm sure nobody reading this can remember anything;)**

**Renewed thanks to anyone who reads my stories despite my laziness, anyway. Reviews would be really appreciated!x**

Chapter Five | Scars

"How are you doing?"

"You want the namby-pamby 'I'm fine' answer I've been giving everyone?" Gill asked, "Or the truth?"

She and Julie were sitting in the station canteen. Gill's colleagues had finally convinced her to take a break and get something to eat, and Julie had sweet-talked one of the chefs into whipping up some tomato and basil soup, Gill's favourite. She wasn't eating it.

"The truth."

"I'm doing shit."

Julie nodded. Gill picked up a chunk of thickly cut white bread, rolling a bit of the dough into a ball and dropping it into the soup so that it floated like a swan might on a pond.

The television in the corner was broadcasting a shaky version of the news. The headline flickered below the picture, as though mocking them.

ENQUIRY INTO MANCHESTER MET'S MURDERED OFFICER ONGOING. POLICE DENY HAVING NO LEADS.

"What good will denying it do?"

"It doesn't normally go down with the press very well when you admit you don't know something. To be honest, nothing normally goes down well with the press," Julie smiled weakly, "This isn't your fault, Gill. It absolutely is not."

OFFICER HAS BEEN NAMED AS CHRISTOPHER LATHAM. COLLEAGUES PAID THEIR RESPECTS YESTERDAY.

"It's true; we have no leads. We have _nothing_," Gill threw her spoon down in the soup, and a little tidal wave of scarlet washed over the side of the bowl and splattered across her hand, "Of course I'm going to blame myself. I was supposed to be his girlfriend – oh, all this toyboy stuff, it was so funny at the time, wasn't it?"

"You shouldn't be on this case."

"What do you want me to do? Go home and sit in front of the TV with some hot chocolate, thinking about how little I knew about him?"

"Gill," Julie reached a hand across the table tentatively, and linked her fingers with her best friend's.

Gill's hands were cold. She had little lines beside her eyes, as though she'd like nothing more than to close them, and never see the world again. Perhaps she wanted to go and lie down beside Chris's grave, and die. Julie couldn't really understand how that felt.

"Hello, DCI Lumb," Julie said, privately glad he was interrupting the frightened silence that had grown up between her and Gill like a wall.

"DCI Dodson, Ma'am."

She smiled and pulled out the chair beside her with her spare hand. He sank down nervously, like a child who feared rabbits might shrink away from a cage of the little furry creatures.

"It's okay, Kev," Gill said gently, pushing the soup away, "I'm not going to eat you. I'm not really hungry at the moment."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, his earnest eyes flickering between them, "Like, coffee, or donuts? I don't mind."

She shook her head, talking to Julie: "Kevin lit a candle for– for Chris, at– at the funeral. He's been really kind. Really helped me."

"That's good," Julie said. Wow, he'd come on a long way since she'd left his syndicate. She'd tease him about it later, when things were a little more normal. It felt wrong to think about laughter when Chris was dead.

Kevin leant back in his chair and buried a hand into his pocket. Both DCIs watched him with the sort of expression he'd grown used to over the years: _what the hell are you doing, you idiot?_ Some things never changed.

"Ma'am, can I give you something?"

"Depends what it is," Gill said.

"Yeah, but– just don't get upset, okay? Or Janet will tell me off. And then Rachel might get a little bit pissed off too, and I'm really trying to avoid that, because she–"

"Not interested in your woeful love life, darling."

Kevin rolled his eyes at Julie and lifted his hand to Gill's, dropping something from between his thumb and finger into the palm of her hand.

It was a delicate bracelet, each little silver link curved into another, with two charms hanging down on opposite sides. One was a pair of handcuffs, crafted beautifully despite how tiny it was, and the other was a heart.

"We were–" he paused, worried she was going to start crying again but unsure how to distract her, "We wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but then we thought it might be better for this week. Just so you know we're all thinking of you, and all that. You know?"

The bracelet dropped suddenly from Gill's hand, making a soft ping as it hit the table.

Thank God she'd moved the soup, Julie thought, reaching out and scooping it up deftly. Poor Kevin; he really did care about her, and yet the things he did to show that always seemed to have the wrong result.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he said, "I thought–"

"It's okay," she said, raising her head so that he could see her eyes were dry. _I keep my promises._ "Put it on my wrist, will you?"

She shook her hand slightly once Julie had locked the clasps together, and the charms danced against her thin wrist.

"Thank you, Kevin. It's beautiful."

"It's alright, Ma'am."

"Can I– if this isn't a bit absurd, can I have a hug?"

Kevin smiled and stood up, and Gill fell in against his chest and let him rock her gently backwards and forwards.

"I loved him," she said.

"I know. And he loved you too, Ma'am. And all this stuff about his family; I'm sure there's a reason why he didn't tell you. We will get whoever did it."

"Yeah. We will."

Julie had been a police officer for longer than she cared to remember, and nothing had been as strange as this scene, as two people who normally pretended to hate one another clung on for dear life. On the other hand, nothing had ever been as touching as this scene either.

XxXxX


End file.
